


rome'll decline and fall again

by iphigenias



Series: shadowhunters post-ep fics [1]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Post-Episode: s01e12 Malec
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-30 05:09:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6410107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iphigenias/pseuds/iphigenias
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Magnus brushes his fingers against his lips, still not quite believing this is real.</p>
            </blockquote>





	rome'll decline and fall again

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [rome'll decline and fall again](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11092170) by [radgara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/radgara/pseuds/radgara)



> it's 10am in the morning and i've already rewatched the episode and written this tragic piece of fluff. but that's ok, because shadowhunters s01e12 cleared my skin, watered my crops, gave me 20/20 vision and added 10 years to my lifespan. we have all been blessed
> 
> title is from david mitchell's cloud atlas. i own nothing
> 
>  **EDIT 04/06/17:** this fic now has a beautiful russian translation! link above.

“I should probably get changed,” Alec says, tugging at his bowtie until it sits askew. Magnus wants to reach out and fix it for him, wants to reach out and _hold_ him, but Alec still looks jittery, like he’s about to bolt any second now, and Magnus wants to make him feel as safe and comfortable as he can.

“You do look rather dashing in that suit,” is what he says instead, because this—blatantly flirting, watching the delicate blush spread across Alec’s cheeks like a bushfire through dry grass—is something familiar, something he always falls back on when he doesn’t know what else to say. Predictably, Alec’s face heats up and he looks at Magnus, a quick glance and then away again, almost as though to check that he’s still there, that he’s real. Magnus’ heart does a little flippy thing in his chest, and he thinks about what Alec said to his father: _Love? No. This is something different._ The butterflies in Magnus’ stomach would disagree, but for Alec it’s too much, too soon, and so Magnus files away those feelings for a time when Alec might be able to return them, and goes instead for an easy grin. “Of course, perhaps something you weren’t about to be married in would suit you better.”

Alec gives a little surprised noise in the back of his throat, almost as though he’d forgotten about the wedding. It makes Magnus smile again (he can’t seem to stop, these days). “Would you,” Alec says, and then stops. He’s turned around to look at Magnus but his gaze keeps skating away, slippery and unsure. Magnus softens his smile and waits. “Would you,” Alec says again, after a too-long pause in which his blush only deepens, “maybe—wait for me? Here? I’ll only be gone a moment.” This time he fixes his gaze on Magnus, and he may still be red in the face but he’s still as gorgeous as the day they met, and Magnus can’t say no.

“Anything for you, Alexander,” he replies, and Alec huffs out a laugh like he thinks Magnus is joking. Magnus doesn’t bother to correct him. _Too much, too soon._

“Okay,” is what Alec says, and he takes a step back before pausing, still looking at Magnus, and there’s something familiar in his eyes that Magnus saw back in the chapel and then he’s leaning in and it feels like déjà vu and—oh. _Oh._

Alec is leaning in and kissing him, and it’s only a soft, chaste brush of lips but Magnus can feel eyelashes fluttering against his cheek and the soft exhale of air against his lips and it feels like everything and nothing all at once. “Okay,” Alec says when he pulls back, and Magnus fights the urge to steal another kiss from him. He gives Magnus a blinding smile, like the one when they first met except more intimate, more familiar, and it makes Magnus’ heart ache just looking at it. Alec moves to leave, still looking at Magnus, but his gaze is broken when he bumps the small of his back against the table and trips standing up. Magnus brings up a hand to hide his laughter, because Alec is an even brighter red now, and he looks so stunned and adorable. “Um,” he says, righting himself and steering a path around the table. “Okay. Um. Wait here.” As if Magnus would be anywhere else.

He watches Alec leave, thankfully not tripping down the stairs, and sighs. His mouth feels sore from smiling so much, but whenever he thinks of Alec, thinks of his face on the altar when Magnus first burst into the chapel, thinks of the way he strode down the aisle without fear, without regret, thinks of the taste of Alec’s lips and the feel of their first kiss, insistent and gentle all at once—when he remembers all of this and more he finds himself smiling again, and even though it hurts he can’t bring himself to stop.

He brushes his fingers against his lips, still not quite believing this is real, and that’s when he sees Rangor.

His friend is lounging on the table amongst his possessions, staring at Magnus with a soft expression on his face. This time it’s Magnus’ face that heats up, and he snatches his fingers from his lips as though they’ve been burned.

“What?” Magnus says defensively, crossing his arms over his chest. Ragnor just grins.

“You look happy,” he tells Magnus, hopping down from the table and walking over.

“Well, you give good advice.” Ragnor preens at that, and Magnus rolls his eyes. “Don’t get cocky on me. It wasn’t all my doing.” Magnus can feel his face softening, just because he’s thinking of Alec. It’s quite ridiculous, really, but he can’t bring himself to care.

“Ah yes. The shadowhunter.” Ragnor tilts his head to the side and gives Magnus an assessing stare. “I like him,” he pronounces abruptly, and Magnus smiles. Even if Ragnor is just a figment of his imagination, he would like to think they’d have gotten along.

“You would,” he says, laughing. “You’re as prickly as each other. You should be the one dating him.”

“ _Dating,_ hmm?” is all Ragnor takes from that statement, and Magnus just shrugs. He doesn’t want to push Alec into anything too sudden—but then again, he _had_ been the one to ask Magnus on their first date. Ragnor seems to read something of his thoughts on Magnus’ face, because he loses the teasing tone in his voice and looks at Magnus intently, expression suddenly serious. “I haven’t seen you like this in a long time, my friend,” he says, and Magnus swallows heavily. “This is a good thing. You deserve it. Don’t let him go too easily.”

Magnus’ throat is dry. “I won’t,” he croaks out, but Ragnor is gone as quickly as he had come. His eyes feel wet, and Magnus reaches up to try and save his eyeliner from smudging when suddenly Alec is calling out his name and he turns almost instinctively.

The shadowhunter is in his usual black jeans, shirt and boots combo, but he still manages to make Magnus’ heart go all funny behind his ribs. He must see the tears in Magnus’ eyes (or, God forbid, the ruined makeup) because his smile disappears and he takes the stairs two at a time, reaching out to Magnus but not quite touching him, unsure of what to do. “Are you okay?” he says, voice laced with concern, and something inside Magnus cracks. The tears threaten to spill over.

“It’s just been a big day,” he manages to get out, and Alec’s face softens into understanding. Magnus doesn’t realise he’s crying until Alec reaches out again and this time draws Magnus into his arms, resting his chin on top of his head and squeezing him tightly. Magnus is sure his makeup is getting onto Alec’s shirt but the taller man doesn’t seem to mind—just rubs comforting circles into Magnus’ back, until he feels boneless and empty and gently pulls back from the embrace. Alec looks at him in silence for a moment, which Magnus uses to snap a quick spell to fix his makeup. He fastens a tremulous smile on his face.

“I’m sorry about Ragnor,” Alec finally says, and Magnus’ smile falters. He looks at Alec in confusion. “Jace told me,” he explains. “I’m sorry. I can’t even think how hard it must be for you.”

Magnus looks away, finding it all of a sudden hard to breathe, and not just because of Ragnor. “He was my oldest friend,” he says truthfully, meeting Alec’s gaze again. “He would’ve liked you,” he adds after a moment, a real smile once again working its way across his lips.

“I wish I could’ve met him,” Alec says softly, smiling back, and maybe Magnus lost his dearest friend yesterday, but today he found his heart again, unlocked it from the vault inside his chest and drew it out into the sunlit glare of Alexander’s smile. He reaches out a tentative hand and clasps Alec’s fingers in his own. Alec’s palm is sweaty, but Magnus holds it all the same.

“How about that drink?” is what he ends up saying, because what he wants to say— _thank you, I love you, I love you_ —is perhaps a little too forward for their first date. But maybe Alec guesses at the words behind the words, because he leans in again and brushes his lips against Magnus’ forehead, and even though he says nothing in reply, Magnus imagines he can hear the words pressed into the kiss: _you’re welcome, I love you, I love you_ _too_.

Over Alec’s shoulder, Ragnor gives Magnus a wink and a thumbs up. “Don’t let him go too easily,” he whispers, and Magnus tightens the grip he has on Alec’s hand.

He won’t.

**Author's Note:**

> ... and then izzy comes in and tells them about hodge and lydia and they don't get to go on the date after all. but i can dream


End file.
